


Falling

by courageousfuck



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 16:16:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6963895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/courageousfuck/pseuds/courageousfuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by a post on Tumblr by @imjustinitforthefanfics.<br/>In which Baz is forced onto a rollercoaster and ends up sitting next to Simon. Scared Baz and cuteness ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling

**Author's Note:**

> They are both Normal in this so Baz's skin is obviously dark, him being part Egyptian and all (*cough* don't whitewash Baz in Normal AU's, please and thank you *cough*).

**Baz:**

He had only wanted to go home, that was all. He definitely _hadn’t_ wanted to get shoved onto the ride labelled ‘The Death Threat’. Which pretty much summed up exactly what he was uttering under his breath as he was pushed by a grinning Dev into the only remaining seat at the back, a two-person carriage otherwise occupied by a young man with the messiest hair Baz had ever seen.

Wrinkling his nose at the males’ unruly appearance while also being unable to help but jealously compare his own reddish-bronze (yet hopelessly barren) complexion to the glowing, tawny skin smattered with freckles and moles that was currently pressed against him, Baz ended up doing a lot of subconscious gazing at the guy. The guy who then turned towards him eagerly and beamed. Flustered (and not wanting to look too much as though he had been staring), Baz looked down at his jeans, before looking up at the boy, before halting in his tracks because – his _eyes._

Good grief. Those _eyes._ He was being hit with a wall of solid blue. They were an extraordinarily ordinary kind of blue, the type you would give to a child in the form of Crayola if they wanted to colour a stripe of sky across the top of the paper. Rays of dark bronze lashes sprayed out around them, and the boy blinked them at him in confusion before resuming his incessant smiling, crinkling the corners of his eyes and scrunching his upturned nose.  
Baz was finding it difficult to breathe somehow, because, really, the guy was both attractive _and_ in extremely close proximity and it. Was just. Hard. To breathe. Even his _smile_ glowed – no, it bloody _sparkled._ His smile was sparkling up those few inches at Baz, and Baz still hadn’t concentrated in time to register the barrier warning. Thankfully the boy had though, as he laughed slightly and jammed the bar down over the both of them, crushing them together even more. He didn’t seem to mind, though. Baz _certainly_ didn’t.

The ride gave a lurch and began to trundle up an extremely steep slope, and Baz’s stomach jumped nervously as his knuckles whitened against the bar he was clinging onto for dear life. The boy next to him just grinned in excited anticipation, teetering forwards in his seat. Baz couldn’t have that, practically hyperventilating in imagining the guy sliding from beneath the barrier somehow, so without even thinking about it he shot out his arm and grabbed the boy around the waist, pulling him back into his seat properly.  
He _had_ fully intended to unwrap his arm from the guy’s waist, and probably would have managed it too, had the ride not tipped over the edge of the slope and gone hurtling down a bend, essentially pinning the boy to him, and essentially sending him into cardiac bloody arrest.

Baz yelped. “Jesus Christ!”

The boy next to him laughed, but didn’t let go of the sudden hold he had on Baz’s forearm. “Scared, huh?”

“No, not at a – fuck!” He yelped again as the ride twirled around a corkscrew bend, almost upending them both from the seat, and giving them perfect opportunity to unravel themselves from each other – the boy was practically sitting in his lap by this point.

Neither of them moved.

The boy turned to him, sparkling again, before giggling – _giggling!_ Baz nearly swooned at how cute he was – at the traumatised expression plastered on Baz’s face.

“Not used to these kind of rides? Wait – let me guess… a dare? Uh – forced on by kidnappers?”

 _“No,_ you – forced on by a friend, actually.”

“Aha!” He jabbed a finger in Baz’s face, which he batted away impatiently (as best he could when being forced around a hairpin turn), “I was close!” Smiling jubilantly, the boy straightened up. Baz rolled his eyes dramatically, which the boy seemed to enjoy highly, watching him with amusement and… awe?

Until the rollercoaster twirled upside-down.

**Simon:**

The guy smashed against Simon as they were flipped upside-down. Simon found the guy hilarious, partly because he was so _haughty_ but _so terrified_ of the ride his mate must have chucked him on, but also because – well – he was particularly gorgeous, with this deep, warm bronze skin that didn’t look like he’d got the bloody pox the way his own did. And his eyes were all sparkly and (grey? Silver? Almost green…) ambiguous. Mysterious. And his nose was tall and aquiline and his lips were nice, too.

_Nice…? What a crap way of thinking they would be kind of good to kiss._

His hair was also very lovely, like delicate ribbons of silk. Black, and longer than the average guy’s – it settled around his shoulders in soft waves that framed his cheekbones very… _nicely_ indeed, Simon couldn’t help but notice. Not while being tipped upside-down though, hair thrown back off his face and towards the ground. The guy’s eyes widened in fear, and Simon just found him so uncontrollably _pretty,_ so he wrapped his arms around the guy, holding him tight to his ribcage until the world flipped back to rights.

At that point it would have been social convention to part and cough and pretend they hadn’t just been cuddling on a rollercoaster. But stay like that they did, and just as well when they were thrown around another corkscrew twist.

“Still scared, hmm?” Simon murmured softly, his breath tickling the guy’s ear.

“Don’t be so ridiculous. I’m just dandy,” he snorted, although he didn’t move from Simon’s embrace.

“Soo… you’re just gonna stay like this for the rest of the ride?”

“I may conceivably stay like this until there is no chance of falling to my death, yes.”

Simon thought about that for a while. Then, “Alright.”

“Alright?”

“Alright. What’s your name, though? I feel like I should know the name of the guy who I’m hugging right now.”

The guy blushed slightly. “My name? Do you want the easy answer or the hard one? Because I ha – shit!” The boy then made a noise that sounded embarrassingly like a yell when the ride then took a sudden dramatic dip, the wind roaring past them and causing Simon’s bronze curls to fly backwards drastically.

“The easy answer, please!” Simon shouted over the wind.

“Baz! It’s Baz Pitch! You?!”

“Simon Snow!”

The ride twisted sharply around another bend, before the guy named Baz spoke again. “Snow… that’s an unusual last name,” he commented.

“It’s my middle name. I just don’t like my dad.”

“Oh. Well, how about your mother’s last name?”

“I don’t know it.” He cut off shortly.

“Ah. I’m – I’m sorry. I know how hard it is… not to have a mother. My own died thirteen years ago. I was five.”

“That’s probably worse then. Mine died in childbirth, so I don’t remember her enough to miss –” Then he registered something. “Wait – you’re eighteen? Same!”

Baz’s expression lightened as he laughed. Simon liked his laugh, the way it reverberated deep in his chest and burst forth almost accidentally. He also liked how his hair was all messy from the wind, the way it made him look like he’d just been –

 _Jesus,_ Simon was depraved.

And also an idiot, apparently, for a question that was _most definitely_ meant to stay in his mind escaped his lips. Fortunately, the ride whipped around a particularly sharp edge, so his question was lost to the wind. Unfortunately, Baz seemed to hear it anyway, because he blushed a dark rose, right to the roots of his ridiculous widow’s peak. He also started to choke on nothing at all.

Contemplating how best to pitch himself off the ride, Simon looked away as best he could when the person he was trying to avoid was in his arms on a rollercoaster carriage. The ride began to slow to a crawl while Baz still coughed and spluttered incredulously.

“D – Did you just – ask me for –” He coughed some more. “For my n – number?”

“Um. Yes? Yeah, I – can-I-have-your-number-Baz?” He asked, words tripping over each other in their rush to get out. Jesus _Christ,_ he was such a moron.

**Baz:**

Baz smirked at Simon then, once he had realised what he had actually been asked. And once he had managed to stop blushing. And choking. _Smooth, Baz. Real smooth._ His own steady blush could not hope to compare to Simon’s, though: a ruddy flush was crawling up his neck, and he heated up all over – it almost burned Baz simply for being in contact.

He managed to straighten up, and scribbled down his number on the back of a mint Aero wrapper – the first thing he found in his pocket. He thrust it at Simon, just as Simon handed Baz his own number. Which, to Baz’s amusement, he too had written on a mint Aero wrapper. He couldn’t help but smile when he saw that, feeling a warmth spread inside him that had nothing to do with Simon’s heat radiation at all. Simon was looking down shyly, blushing furiously and chewing his lip. He looked up at Baz, saw him smiling, and then visibly relaxed. He beamed, before leaning in towards Baz, his mouth against his ear. Baz sat completely still in nervous anticipation, tilted in towards Simon.

“I’m not going to kiss you, you know.” Simon whispered gently, before leaning away from him.

“I wouldn’t expect you to. We’ve just met, after all.” Baz was whispering too, although they were far enough apart that it was hard to pick up.

“Yeah, but – but,” Simon swallowed (it was a whole bloody show, his Adams apple bobbing up, then down like a yo-yo) and leaned back into Baz, his face so close that all he had to do was tilt upwards ever so slightly. “I’m not going to kiss you, even though you’re beautiful, and funny. And cute – _God_ , you’re really cute.”

He sighed. “I’m not going to kiss you,” he said again, though he sounded more uncertain this time.

Then _Baz_ tilted _downwards_ ever so slightly, and brushed his lips, ever so gently, against Simon’s. The warmth within him intensified and tingled. He smiled tentatively into the kiss, and Simon drew him in closer, and Baz didn’t realise that the ride had stopped, everyone else had gotten out and the crowd were all waiting for them to _stop kissing and get out already_ until Dev told him much later with a wicked grin on his face. Baz could only raise his eyebrows and growl at him half-heartedly to shut up, as he stroked the mint Aero wrapper with Simon’s number on it in his pocket and smiled.


End file.
